So, I really like the Rolling Stones. I like them so much I have considered getting a tattoo when I'm 80 (and I HATE tattoos).
And at this very moment in time they are IN MY TOWN. I even know where they're staying! I suspect that they will perform a small, intimate, surprise gig somewhere in town prior to their concert on Saturday night and I am desperate to see them!
This weekend I went down to their hotel and sat in the bar for a while, but they didn't come out. I am considering a camp out on Friday (my day off)........
Truthfully though, I have a friend, who knows someone who works in the hotel, and although she has given me tasty tidbits like: the floor they are on, and calls me when they are going in or out with exhortations to 'get down here!!!'.... to be honest, the thought of being that close to them fills me with an awe approaching paralysis!! I am a pathetic creature torn in two directions.
One part of me wants to take my Goats Head Soup album (the second I ever bought, after Ziggy Stardust) or my Keith Richards authentic T Shirt certificate, down to the hotel and hope for the best. The other part thinks that I would not have the words or the spine to approach them....
But Saturday night is the big night. Of course we all know the traumatic story of their cancellation of the March shows after the death of L'Wren Scott. It was weird because people had been teasing me about one of them dropping dead before the concert etc and when a UK friend posted about L'wren's death at 6.30am my time.....I thought I was still dreaming! Still, time passes and we are here and now, waiting for The Stones.
So last weekend I went out on a Stone Hunt. After all, Adelaide is a small town. I had had a few tips as to where they may surface and, although I was flying solo, I ventured out into the night life of Adelaide in order to stalk the Stones. After all, what did I have to lose? It's not like they're going tobe here again.....
Most of the suggested venues looked pretty subdued during my drive past so I thought to park in the CBD and hang out in the hotel lobby. As I made a right turn into the street where I hoped to park, I noticed a slumped form on a bench outside the Cenotaph on the corner. By the time I had parked and walked up the street to the Cenotaph corner, the slumped form had parted company with the bench and landed squarely (and hard) on the pavement. He was lying in, roughly, the recovery position (apart from a weirdly twisted arm) and a quick check ensured that he was breathing. I tried to rouse ham and got little response so, feeling somewhat desperate, I called the Police. They were very kind and took all the details, assuring me that it was not my responsibility to sit with him until the officers came. But what could I do? He was incredibly vulnerable. I waited with him.
So it was that at 1.30am, I finally made it to the Intercontinental Hotel and strolled surreptitiously into the bar, to be surroundedby a whole bunch of people in red, white and black clothing, and not a Rolling Stone in sight.
But my thirst for the Stones is unassuaged. I cannot wait for Saturday's concert. It is an amazing opportunity to see an iconic group of people doing what they do best. My Baby Angel was brought up to the strains of 'You Can't Always Get What You Want' and 'Straycat Blues' (a lullaby), warbled inexpertly by her obsessed mama. You cannot imagine how proud I was the day a friend reported that she had sung it to him from the back seat of his car as he had admonished his (same aged) son for asking for that 'one thing too many'. That's my gal!
So here she is now, brought up on the icons, short of funds and pretty well 'bought out' of the ticket market by the ridiculously swift uptake of tickets in the first instance. There have been offers of tickets this time around, where people were unable to honor their commitments, but I felt unsure about buying them off the internet. It seemed inherently dodgy. Then tonight all that changed.
Checking my twitter feed to see whether there was any suggestion of a late night show in Adelaide to night I came upon a last minute 'production run' of tickets. My mind was clouded by fog. I said to myself:
Is it likely your daughter is going to be able to see The Rolling Stones in real life ever again?
Can you let her miss out on this life event?
Of course the answer was 'non'. I booked those tickets right there in the car park of the supermarket. They'll probably be behind a pole, but hell.......she'll be there! IT"S ONLY ROCK N ROLL!!!!!!
